


What the Prose Didn't Say

by Darksidefan5



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 02:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13801890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksidefan5/pseuds/Darksidefan5
Summary: Snippets of life in Asgard featuring characters in both the MCU and comic-verse.





	1. Jane, Meet Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during Dark World. Most other chapters will take place pre-Thor (2011).

 

 

Thor waved off the offer of horses as they exited the observatory. They could only spare the few short minutes together before they reached the gate and people became curious as to why a human was on Asgard. For that, Jane was grateful and she spent a few moments gazing at the distant golden doors and their complementary palace beyond, half appreciating the artistry, half trying to determine just how long she has with Thor uninterrupted. 

 

Their talk was idle and full of apologies from Thor and smiled understandings from Jane. She asked him a million and one questions, most delving further into engineering and sciences that he himself does not quite understand. Some of it he simply explained away as magic. The floating spires, the waterfall that does not actually leave the grand island that is Asgard proper, the Bifrost - all of it a great and powerful magick. It's only partially true. 

 

The towering gate doors before them only served to make Jane feel even smaller than she already must seem to be. She imagined the need for even larger cranes and machines that would have lifted their heavy mass and set them in their final place. The strength needed, for they could not possibly be just gold, mystified her. 

 

And turning her eyes from the doors had been a bad idea. 

 

Skyscrapers paled against the buildings that laid beyond. She briefly wondered if Asgard was not home to Thor and his people, but to giants instead. 

 

With each step, she found it weighed with a unfamiliar pressure. Was this magic or an alien gravity? It was not a cumbersome weight, but it was there to make its presence known. 

 

To her human, mortal senses, the air sparked with unseen energy. 

 

Thor hailed an awaiting servant who had been seated in a hovering vehicle. Its design was that of a boat, but its purpose seemed to be for the air, land, and sea. 

 

Jane wanted to observe the servant, he who was dressed in an ancient fashion with alien cloth. There was a peculiar presence about him. A dull light if you will. But Thor was once again talking, telling her of his home and where they were headed. Jane knew she should pay better attention, but her head felt awash in the atmosphere of Asgard.

 

Curiously, Thor did not emanate with the same glow and quality as the servant. He was simply Thor. She could feel power radiate from him, lightning ready to burst, but she recalled feeling that ever since he reclaimed his power in New Mexico.

 

Was it a different magic? 

 

Their journey was not long, and soon their destination came into view. Though she would never let on, Jane was disappointed to not be shown to the palace first. The gleaming spires shone and called to her like a siren's song. 

 

Instead, Thor had taken her to a smaller building, though equally as golden and bright. It stood on an island in a large, crystal blue lake. As the aircraft descended, Jane became aware of a small gathering at the platform. 

 

"Word travels quickly in Asgard," was all Thor had to say. 

 

They disembarked and most in the crowd bowed their heads in deference. It was often easy to forget Thor was a prince. One notable exception was a woman dressed in a simple blue gown and patterned shawl. 

 

As they drew nearer, Thor called to her, "Ah, good sister. Always the first to know everything."

 

"I merely happened to be at the right place at the right time."

 

A brief thought flitted through Jane's mind as to Thor having a sister, but the thought was chased away as her eyes became transfixed on the woman in blue. 

 

Her hair was dark, almost black. Her face held a soft beauty and her expression was not unkind. Jane had never noticed anyone's eye color upon a first meet, but this woman's eyes stood out in bright blue. Perhaps it was the matching dress that made them appear so. 

 

As Jane gazed, practically enthralled, an image of a lake, smaller and unlike the one that surrounded them, appeared in her head.

 

Suddenly, she found herself standing on a short pier, alone, looking out across the deep blue and gray waters. There was forest of tall, thin trees, on all sides, their leaves forming a dense canopy above. The sky was almost black and the clouds were thick and full. Rain poured and battered away at a small log cabin that rested near the shore. It was quiet with only the sounds of the raindrops hitting away at the lake. 

 

Jane did not know where she was, but she found that she did not care; whatever this was, was soothing. 

 

Jane could feel the cold air envelope her but the setting shifted and she then found herself seated on a rug on the floor inside the lake house by the shore. A fire sprang to life before her and warmed her front, while the icy wind picked and pecked at her back, having seeped in from the crack under the door.

 

She looked neither right nor left in the cabin, but she knew everything in there - the old, off-white sofa, the dark wood rocking chair in the corner, and the midnight blue blanket that lay folded in a cubby on the end table. She knew this despite never having been here before. It was simply instinct, a comfort. 

 

The storm picked up and thunder began to rumble. But she was safe, here in this lake house. When she shivered, she felt warm hands covering her in the thick blanket. 

 

Both in her mind and in the present, Jane felt her eyes begin to droop. Her body was utterly relaxed. Her mind sank into the safety and peace of the vision in her head. 

 

From somewhere outside of this pleasant storm, Jane heard a soft song, "I think someone's getting sleepy." 

 

"Jane," Thor nudged her, trying to rouse her. "Jane. Is everything alright?" 

 

Blinking away the dream, she answered, still rather dazed. "I'm fine. I'm.... It's been a long day."

 

"We're almost to the healing rooms. You can rest when we get there." 

 

The nameless woman said, "I will not impede your journey any further. It was nice to have met you, Jane Foster."

 

She swept away and Jane found that she could not recall being introduced. 

 

"Who was that?" she asked as Thor led her through the glass doors of the building. 

 

Thor, aware of her befuddled state, indulgently replied, "That was my sister by marriage, Lady Sigyn. She is Loki's wife."

 

"His wife?"  She exclaimed, shaking off her drowsiness.

 

"Aye, but she is not an accomplice to his crimes," Thor assured. "Though she can be a bit... hypnotic, I would say. I'm sure she has used that to her advantage more than once." He said that with a laugh. "She's also fiercely loyal to my-" 

 

Thor paused for half a moment, his face unreadable. "My brother," he said softly.  

 

A wave of sympathy washed over her. For all of her hatred towards Loki for the destruction and death he leveled against New York and Mexico, at that moment, she hated Loki even more for causing Thor this anguish. As an only child, Jane could not imagine what it must feel like for Thor to know his brother was responsible for such monstrous acts - the emotional conflict of loving Loki-the-Brother but condemning his actions and demanding justice be served. 

 

"I trust Sigyn with my life," Thor said with finality. 

 

Jane was certain he had once said those words about Loki as well. 

 

Thor continued as they made their way through the halls. "She is a dear friend and her presence is always a comfort in these warring times. I sometimes feel like I've spent a day relaxing in the peace of the lake after simply speaking with her." 

 

Jane opened her mouth to say something but was cut off when Thor indicated one of the open doorways ahead. "Here it is. Eir should be able to solve this matter quickly."

 

He ushered her in and she found herself immediately swarmed on all sides by healers. 

 

She did not spare another thought on Lady Sigyn for some time. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also available on ff.net


	2. The Beard

"I wonder what you'd look like with a beard."

 

The statement was casual; the effect was not. 

 

Loki, who had been standing at the table stirring his potion, froze mid-stir.

 

No longer hearing the soft scraping of the stirring rod against the cauldron, Sigyn looked up from her book to the blank face of her husband.

 

Thor, who had been quietly passing by the table the couple occupied with a tankard of ale in hand, immediately jumped in before his brother could respond. "Sigyn, that is a deep dark hole you do not want to go down."

 

"What, the beard?"

 

"The beard," Thor replied, pantomiming it as he spoke. 

 

Loki, who did not desire to dwell on the topic, quickly added his own piece in hope of providing an end to the conversation. "It is not a deep dark hole. It is a merely shallow pothole in the road of life. Less than an inch deep. So small it's on the bottom of the list for repair; easy to simply swerve around, making it rather insignificant to me, therefore making it unimportant to you."

 

Undeterred by her husband's long-winded evasion, Sigyn countered, "I'm not saying it is important. I simply think it's a curiosity, a fascination - a pothole with something shiny in it." 

 

Thor spoke up, "Yes, shiny. Like a hairless head."

 

"Hairless head? Only hairless chin," Loki corrected. 

 

Sigyn turned to Thor elaborated. "And hairless arms, hairless chest, but not a hairless-"

 

"Enough," Loki said, his face going from white to pink to red in an instant. 

 

She turned to her brother by marriage and invited him to sit. "What is the deal with the beard?" she asked as he sat with a heavy thud. 

 

"Thor, no."

 

"Thor, yes."

 

The blonde prince looked back and forth between the two sorcerers and said, "I'm going to admit being a little afraid of your wife and answer her question because she knows where I sleep."

 

"I know where you sleep," Loki reminded. 

 

"You know where I sleep?"

 

"Everyone knows where you sleep."

 

Unfortunately for Loki, Thor simply shrugged and began to share his facial hair misfortune to Sigyn. Fortunately, the misfortune was only summed up in a five-word statement.

 

"Loki cannot grow a beard."

 

"Cannot?" 

 

"Cannot."

 

 Feeling miffed, Loki challenged, "Who's to say I've even tried? I'm sure I could."

 

Thor gave a soft chuckle. "Unless you are still pubescent, there is no beard in your future."

 

Sigyn piped up, "He could buy one."

 

"Buy one?"

 

"Buy one, yes. I heard the dwarves crafted Lady Sif's dark hair. They could make you a beard." 

 

Thor gave Loki a strange look. "Did you tell her the full account of that incident?" 

 

Loki turned back to his wife and quickly said, "I will not buy a beard." 

 

"Will not?" 

 

"Cannot." 

 

Sigyn pondered for a moment. "Have you seen a healer?"

 

Loki said, "Yes." Thor said, "Many." And Sigyn said, "Huh." 

 

Loki told his wife, "They found nothing wrong."

 

"Nothing?"

 

"Nothing." 

 

"And yet, no beard," Thor added. 

 

"There is obviously something wrong then." She paused. "Unless..."

 

"Unless?" 

 

"Unless you weren't designed to have a beard." 

 

It took all of five seconds for Loki to understand what she meant. "I am male."

 

"Yes. And while my gender preferences are not as rigid, my sexual proclivities are grateful for you having the typical genitalia associated with men, but androgyny -"

 

Loki's response was hurried and harsh. "I would know if I were androgynous."

 

"Dear, there's no need for aggression."

 

"Aggression?"

 

"Yes, aggression. It'd be perfectly alright. I'd still love you just the same."

 

"But I'm not." 

 

Before Sigyn could turn Loki's declarative sentence into her own interrogative, Thor, who had been deep in considerative thought, suddenly stated as if uncovering some great truth, "Frost Giants don't have beards." 

 

"Frost Giants?" they questioned. 

 

"Aye, Frost Giants."

 

They all paused and mulled the idea over in their heads - the possibility and various repercussions of Loki being a Jotun.   

 

There was a collective, "Nah." 

 

Sigyn went back to her book and Loki to his potion work. Thor took a long drink of his ale, and they all went about their business in contemplative silence. 

 

Thor then broke the silence by offering one last suggestion. "We could draw you a beard." 


	3. If Only for a Day

 

He tried not to laugh; he really did. But an excited giggle escaped and went out like a homing beacon. Balder immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. She would definitely find him!

 

"Balder! Balder, where are you?" 

 

He crouched lower and pressed his back up against the bushes behind him. He could only see through a small gap between two perfectly trimmed hedges. Balder could hear her footsteps. 

 

"Balder," his nurse called once again. "You'll be late for your lessons!"

 

He watched her walk in front of his hiding place and pause. He curled himself up tighter and waited for her to continue down the garden path. Balder relaxed a bit when she finally moved on. He counted to twenty, then slowly peaked his head up from the tight row of bushes. Not seeing his nurse, Balder maneuvered out of bushes and dashed off in the opposite direction. 

 

He knew a shortcut that would lead him to the other side of the garden. There was secret place with its own fountain and lots and lots of pretty flowers. A very beautiful lady had shown it to him and told him he could visit the place any time he wanted. 

 

With a hop, skip, and a jump, Balder burst through the hidden entrance and nearly barreled over a large figure in black.

 

As he tried to balance himself, the other person's hands shot out to help steady him.

 

He looked up, expecting to find the woman who had invited him to this hidden garden. But this person, this woman, was not her. This woman had darker hair and eyes and didn't seem to shine like the other woman did. She was fairer and looked kinder and always had a smile on her face. 

 

Balder pulled away from the woman who wasn't supposed to be here! 

 

"Who are you? You're not Fr-Frigga," he stuttered trying to remember the kindly woman's name. 

 

The woman tilted her head, a curious expression on her face and said, "No, I am not. Who are you?" 

 

"I'm Balder." His lessons with Master Aulver quickly came to mind and he tacked on a quick 'milady' and awkward bow. He wasn't sure if she was a Lady or not, but better safe than sorry.  

 

The still nameless woman gave a short laugh and asked, "And what are you doing here, my Lord Balder?" She said the last part dramatically and her mocking tone escaped him.

 

"I was looking for Lady Frigga."

 

The amused expression on her face never left as she questioned, "Lady Frigga?" Again, he missed the meaning behind her emphasis.  

 

He nodded. 

 

"Well the ... Lady Frigga is not here right now. So you can run along now." She dismissed Balder with a wave of her hand and turned to go sit, with her back to the entrance, on the single bench in this private garden. 

 

But he didn't want to go. Lady Frigga gave him permission to be here!

 

Balder decided to quietly meander about the garden away from the woman in black. She could have her side and he could have his. 

 

He began to wonder why she in here in the first place. Maybe Lady Frigga had given her permission to be in here too. He hoped not because she seemed kind of mean. 

 

"What are you still doing here?" 

 

The woman's voice made him jump. She had turned around on the stone bench and was leveling a solid glare in his direction. "I thought I told you to leave."

 

"Lady Frigga said I can be here too, so I'm staying." He crossed his arms and stood tall like he'd seen Prince Thor do.

 

The woman's eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything. She eventually turned back around but not without giving a small, angry huff.

 

Balder opted to not pay her any mind as he went back to milling around the garden. He admired the flowers and carved bushes that always seemed to change each time he visited. He couldn't name more than a few of the types, Lady Frigga having taught him whenever she was there.

 

He was in search though of his favorite flower, one that never seemed to be replaced like the others did. Lady Frigga called it daylily. She said it only bloom for a day before dying and another would grow in its place. He hadn't quite believed her and once spent a whole evening, much to the displeasure of his nurse, sitting in front of the daylillies waiting for them to die. It had been the only time Lady Frigga had told him he needed to leave the garden when she finally found him and escorted him back to his room. 

 

It took him a while to find the flowers as the garden, though relatively small, was still quite large for a child, and the flowers would sometimes disappear from one place and reappear somewhere else the next time he was there. It was like the garden was playing hide and go seek with him. And his flowers were the only ones to do that. 

 

Still be ignored by the woman, Balder sat down in front of the small patch of daylillies and observed them. These ones were bright orange and red and Lady Frigga had said they could be many other colors are well, but Balder had taken to liking these. He wondered if he should pick some for his nurse. She would like them and maybe not be so angry with him for skipping his lessons. 

 

Lady Frigga had also shown him a way to carefully pick flowers, a lesson which came with a promise on his part to never pick a flower unless he was going to give it to someone. She would not tolerate him destroying her garden for play. He had eagerly agreed and given her a whole bouquet that day. She had smiled at him and he liked her smile very much. 

 

As he picked the first flower, he was stopped as a sudden wave of emotion washed over him. It wasn't the first time he had felt something like this. He had confided in both Lady Frigga and his nurse and both women had told him it was a gift. A magical gift. He could feel other people's emotions even when they were hiding them. He hadn't known what to do the first few times it had happened, but as he encountered other people's feelings, especially sadness, he tried to comfort them like how his nurse would comfort him after a bad dream or a nasty scrape on his knee.

 

Balder looked over the woman sitting on the bench and felt another rush of what he could only describe as horrible sadness overcome him. He was sitting off to her right and could see her face rather clearly from this distance. There were no tears, no pain, or any emotion evident on her face. She simply stared at the bushes and shrubs, seemingly lost in her own world.

 

She suddenly became aware of Balder's stare and scowled at him. Gathering her black cloak around her, she quickly stood and started to leave.

 

He didn't know why, but despite her unpleasant attitude toward him, Balder didn't want her to leave just yet. "Wait!" He scrambled to his feet and ran after her.

 

She paused, having almost made it to the entrance with her longer strides, and turned toward him. 

 

He didn't know why he followed after her or what he was going to do when she stopped. "I - I, uhm." 

 

Balder remembered the daylily he had clutched in his hand. He held it out to her and the words he had been at loss for instantly came to him. "I picked this for you. It's a daylily meaning it only lives for a day before dying." 

 

An unidentifiable expression crossed her face, and Balder, unsure if it was good or bad quickly added, "It's my favorite and I want you to have it."

 

A moment passed as she continued to scrutinize him. Then, ever so carefully, she held out a hand to accept his gift.

 

"Thank you, Balder," she said not unkindly. Through his gift he could feel the sincerity in her words. It made him smile.

 

"You're welcome, Lady...uh," he was at loss for what to call her. 

 

Her eyes were transfixed on the flower he had given her and so Balder wondered if she was even paying attention anymore. Though apparently she was as she looked back at him and said softly, "Karnilla."

 

Karnilla. It was a pretty name like Frigga and Sigyn. 

 

"You're welcome, Lady Karnilla." 

 

From the other side of the tall bushes that surrounded the garden, a familiar voice called out, though now a bit more irritated, "Balder! Balder come here right now!" 

 

Uh oh. 

 

Lady Karnilla raised an eyebrow and gave Balder an amused look. "I think someone's looking for you." 

 

Before he could say anything, she said, this time more friendly, "Go. I'm sure you will be in bigger trouble if you stay and she finds you." 

 

She gave him a gentle nudge toward the pathway. 

 

He almost pouted, but then recalled Master Aulver's words about how it was unbecoming behavior. 

 

Instead, he bowed with all of the grace a five year old could muster and tried to remember the proper way to say goodbye. "It was nice to have met you, Lady Karnilla. I hope you have a pleasant day." 

 

Balder was sure he botched it, vaguely recalling needing to ask to be excused or something like that, but he felt somewhere in his heart that his own words were right for this occasion. 

 

Lady Karnilla inclined her head at his bow and replied, "It was nice to have met you as well, Balder. I hope you have a pleasant day as well." 

 

With that, Balder spun around and ran out of the garden. 

 

 

 

 

Karnilla, Queen of Nornheim, watched Balder leave with an almost disappointment. 

 

He was a peculiar child who was being brought up in a peculiar manner. She had heard the official account that he was a ward of the Crown, an orphan who had been found by a nobleman who sought to care for him, only to have the benevolent Asgardian rulers decree he would be raised in the palace and groomed for the role of Captain of the Royal Militia, a far higher title he would ever receive as the fourth child of a lesser noble.  

 

But her little birds within the palace had picked up on an interesting rumor before it had been completely hushed: the child Balder was in fact a true-born son of the king and queen.  

 

Upon receiving that tidbit of information, Karnilla took it for what it was, a rumor, conjecture. She could not imagine Queen Frigga giving up one of her beloved sons, even if he remained physically close. She first wondered if the child was the All-Father's bastard. Then she wondered if he was the All-Mother's. 

 

Those theories shattered upon looking at the boy. He had his father's bright blue eyes that he also shared with his princely brother Thor. But Balder's eyes held one thing the other two's did not: contempt. Balder looked upon her with kindness and a child's open love. Both Odin and Thor, and to an extent Loki, only gave her hard looks of resentment and disapproval. 

 

But Balder did not only take after his father and brother. His red-blond curls were definitely from his Queen Mother as was his sweet smile. They were a family of blondes and fair looks. Except Loki, which caused her to speculate if he was the outsider with his bright green eyes, ink black hair, and too pale of a face.

 

Nonetheless, Balder was a stark contrast to the people who lived and worked in Asgard's palace.

 

After spending the day on the receiving end of scornful looks and harsh whispers about her own kingdom, people, ways, beliefs, and even herself, Karnilla wanted to be alone. Despite her usually tough exterior and cool demeanor towards practically everyone, the Norn Queen just wished to be home among those she considered if not friends, then at least allies.

 

Unfortunately, she was stuck on Asgard for another fortnight as the summit of the heads of state from across Yggdrasil continued.

 

Being keenly aware of Karnilla's distress, Frigga had, in a most politic manner, offered her private garden as a refuge when she needed it. Their kingdoms may not see eye to eye, but Asgard's queen was kind and for that Karnilla was most grateful. 

 

Meeting the boy though was a surprise. If the rumor was true, then Karnilla was at loss to explain the royal couple's reasoning other than possibly protecting the boy. She wasn't sure how safe it was to hide him in plain view though. If they were after protection, she thought they would have hidden him deep in the farmlands of Vanaheim or Alfheim. And she was curious to know who all knew. Did Thor and Loki? Did Balder's nurses or tutors? 

 

These were questions that would undoubtedly plague her despite being very unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

 

Though they could be....

 

Gazing fondly on the flower in her hand, she flicked a bit of magic at it. Not one for horticulture, she only had the little boy's knowledge that it would wither by the end of the day. She charmed it to 'freeze' as it was, still blooming with its brilliant oranges and reds. 

 

She would save this as a reminder of a kind little boy, who's only thought was to make her happy, if only for a day.

 

 

 


	4. The Lady Warrior

 

The Lady Sif stood tall before him - shoulders back, chin up, heels together - her body in perfect position at attention. 

 

Odin paced a slow arc around her, his eyes flicking up and down, taking in every detail of her armor. All of it was pristine and gleaming, nary a single scuff or scratch. The reprimand he had had died on his lips when Sif first entered the room and he'd seen it. Not many would dare, or had the money to, go get a full set of standard armor from the armory before being given clearance by the base commander. Her audacity stunned him, but he found that he did not mind. 

 

"So the Lady desires to be a warrior," he said with the slightest hint of amusement in his voice as he came to a full stop in front of her.

 

"Yes, majesty." Sif kept her eyes focused beyond where the Allfather stood, her face devoid of emotion. 

 

Odin gave a short "hmm" and went back to assessing her. 

 

"Do you have the determination to become one of my soldiers? Becoming a warrior takes more than physical strength and prowess in a fight, it takes pain, endurance, patience, control over one's mind and emotions, and most importantly, time. It is a challenge even many a men cannot accomplish, let alone a noble lady."

 

Her answer was quick and concise. "I do."

 

He noticed that when Sif spoke, she tried to contort her body into further rigidity. A pained look crossed his face. 

 

"At ease, good lady."

 

With a forceful snap the Allfather didn't know was even possible for the movement, she went into parade rest. Odin let out a small sigh. 

 

Looking at the woman before him, Odin could see, even with only one good eye, the passion she held for this. He had watched her grow up, here in the palace, alongside his sons. Though still a child in most regards, he admired her tenacity and quick mastery of the warring arts.

 

When he first became aware of her, it was when he went to observe his sons' lessons on the palace training grounds. He would often see her practice in the shadows with tree branches, following every instruction the sword master had given as if she were part of his lesson. After seeing her do this a few times, and notice how she sometimes struggled with certain aspects due to lack of guided tutelage, Odin decided to intervene and convinced her parents to allow her participation with the other students. They had not been keen on the idea of their daughter learning such things, but they would not refuse their king.

 

As she grew, Odin saw the constant struggle Sif found herself in, for she excelled in her studies of politics and debate in the same way she mastered her hand at any weapon she held. But they were different realms and there were as many who argued for her to abandon her pursuit of the sword and as those who campaigned for her full allegiance to the battlefield. His personal wish was to see if she could successfully straddle both worlds, both politics and war. It would be a most interesting and powerful mix, but he also gave thought to what her desires were, for he did not want to coerce her into choosing. He worried though that recent events were already forcing her to commit to one side. 

 

"Lady Sif, I must question if this decision of yours has anything to do with my son cutting off your hair?" 

 

To her credit, her flinch was almost imperceptible. The hair on her head was no longer a wild patch of short tufts, but had been further shorn to an even three-eighths of an inch.

 

"I have always desired a place amongst Asgard's finest," she avoided.

 

Odin gave a quiet chuckle. "Yes, I recall well. Many of Thor and Loki's bruises over the years were by your hand."

 

Sif's cheeks went red with embarrassment and she quickly stammered out, "I apologize for any harm I have inflicted on your sons, my king."

 

The Allfather waved off the apology. "You were children at play. And they more than likely deserved it." 

 

He paused for half a moment and his brief levity disappeared. "As does Loki deserve punishment for his assault against you." 

 

For the first time since entering Odin's office, Sif actually looked at her king. 

 

"My youngest son does many things I turn a blind eye to. Most of it is harmless; he is growing in his magic and talents after all, but I shall never condone an assault such as this. He is to be tried and punished for his crime."

 

Sif simply nodded. "Very well, my king." 

 

Were it not for his acute hearing, Odin would have missed her softly add "thank you."

 

"But you did not answer my question. Does your hair play a part in this decision?"

 

Her reply was not immediate, but when she finally had her thoughts together, she said resolutely, "The situation has given me the opportunity to start anew. As my hair grows, so shall I, in the battlefield and in wisdom. I will not be a child anymore, kept solely within the confines of court life."

 

"A Lady and a warrior," he said it as a statement. He nodded in agreement to show his approval. "Those in court and in battle should learn to be cautious for you would be able to bring them to their knees with both words and force."

 

"By your command, of course."  

 

"Pursue this course and I will give it." His smile was kind as he spoke, "You have a strong heart, milady. And a strong arm I hear, as well. I have never had any doubt that you could become one of the greatest warriors Asgard has ever seen."

 

Dropping her stoic mask, Sif broke into a large grin. "Your words do me honor, my liege. I hope to serve you well." 

 

He turned to go sit at his desk, looking back at her as he sat, the dismissal clear, "Then do so. Now go, rest! For tomorrow begins the most difficult training of your life, and you will wish to had more time for sleep!"

 

With a well practiced bow, Sif left with an excited bounce in her step, causing Odin to wonder if anyone had ever bounced in Asgardian armor before. 


	5. The Little Lost Girl

 

"You are hereby forbidden from all forms of participation in the upcoming tournaments. No competing, no betting, no attendance, and no attending celebrations before or after."

 

Loki set his jaw and asked, "For how long am I to be punished?"

 

The Allfather looked down upon his son and saw the defiance in his eyes. He was sorely tempted to knock him off of his high horse with a longer sentence, but he opted to keep the time agreed upon by the council. "Until such time that the Lady Sif's hair grows back to its original length."

 

Loki's unapologetic attitude immediately vanished in favor of incredulity. "That's a rather imprecise sentence."

 

"You gave her a rather imprecise haircut."

 

 

 

 

Several weeks later, and still licking his wounds, Loki found himself almost alone in the palace. The only people who were not at the stadium grounds watching the tournament were old, disinterested scholars and the few servants and guards who managed to pick the short straws and had to stay behind to work.

 

The raucous cheering echoed in some of the larger halls closer to the stadium, causing Loki to avoid the south eastern wing entirely. Instead he kept himself busy with doing odd jobs here and there, magical ones of course. 

 

In an effort to appear humble, he had taken to being on his best behavior, always helping around the palace and refraining from any trickery. This morning alone already found him using his brewing skills to assist the potion making in the healing wing, developing a rather ingenious fly trap for the kitchens, and creating a more efficient method by which to catalogue and search for books in the royal library. The last one didn't really use his magical talents, but it had been by some magic that the grand master archivist had allowed him to fiddle with the old system. 

 

As he wandered down the corridor to his next job in the indoor garden, Loki saw a somewhat familiar figure at the other end. 

 

Barely a moment after their eyes locked, short, little legs came scurrying towards him. Her curly, auburn hair and gigantic smile told Loki everything he needed to know at that moment. 

 

She was Volstagg's child. 

 

"Prince Loki!" she yelled as same came barrelling down the hall. The resemblance to her father in that instant was uncanny. 

 

"Yes?" he inquired as she came to a stop. What was her name again? Gerda? Yes, that sounded right. 

 

Her voice proved as boisterous as her father's and her words came out in a rush. "I can't find my da! I had to go to the ladies' room and he said he'd be right back 'cause he was gonna get us snacks but he isn't. I've looked and looked but I can't find him anywhere!"

 

Loki did not realise there was something he absolutely did not want to do today until this very moment. This was it. 

 

"Have you tried the kitchens?"

 

"Aye."

 

"The dining hall?"

 

A nod.

 

"The feasting hall?"

 

Another nod. 

 

"The grand feasting hall?"

 

At her third nod, Loki briefly contemplated if there were any other hall, room, or chamber where the Voluptuous Volstagg might find food.  Finding none, he simply said, "I'm sure he's somewhere in the palace. Try the kitchens again."

 

"But I told you he isn't there!" 

 

Whether it was by his magic or some innate paternal sense, Loki could see the child's emotional state was dissolving quickly. 

 

He bent down on one knee and placed his hands on her small shoulders. 

 

"Look, Gerda, your father is probably looking for you right now. Did he tell you to stay near the ladies' room?"

 

"Yes."

 

Loki wondered what went on in a child's head. Logic simply escaped them. 

 

"Then why did you not stay there?"

 

"I waited and waited and he never came back," she cried. 

 

"He most likely got distracted by all of the food. You probably just missed him as you went looking."

 

"Can you help me find him? Please, Prince Loki?"

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw a guard heading down the corridor doing his rounds. 

 

"I have a better idea. How about I have a guard accompany you. He can take you all over the palace and find your missing father."

 

Loki stood and motioned the guard over. 

 

"But Da says to never go with strangers!"

 

Loki resolved to have a chat with Volstagg about what he was teaching his child as she would not even go to a palace guard for assistance. 

 

"He's a guard, not a stranger. You can trust him."

 

He also wanted to add, "Am I not a stranger as well? We have only ever met once." He managed to refrain from making that comment. 

 

But Gerda was steadfast in her wish for Loki to help her. "But you have magic. You can find him easier."

 

"Gerda, I -"

 

Loki looked up to see two servants wandering down the hall chatting animatedly. Why were there so many people in this particular wing of a rather empty palace? He really did not want an audience to this, him with a soon to be even more upset child. Unfortunately, he recognized one of the servants to be a very gossipy chambermaid. Loki really did not need more bad words circling the kingdom.

 

With a sigh, he conceded, "Fine. I'll help you find your father."

 

Gerda latched herself onto Loki's leg and squealed, "Thank you, Loki!" 

 

He gave the two servants an awkward smile as they quickly walked passed with amused looks on their faces, knowing that they would immediately start talking about him once they turned the corner. 

 

He tried to pry Gerda off of him. "Kindly remove yourself or I'll turn you into something unpleasant."

 

The threat only earned him a bout of giggling, though thankfully she did let go.

 

Still giggling, Gerda asked, "You wouldn't really turn me into a toad, would you?"

 

"I might. Though when did I say I'd turn you into a toad? I just said I'd turn you into something unpleasant."

 

"I don't like toads," she simply said with a serious shake of her head.

 

Again, her leaps in logic went completely over his head. 

 

"Come on. Let's find your father before I turn myself into a toad." 

 

 

 

 

After a minute or so of blessed silence, Gerda piped up, "Why aren't you at the tournament? Everyone else is there."

 

"Seen one, seen them all."

 

"How can you see them all if you've only seen one?"

 

"Magic," he said, exaggerating the word and with a little wave of his hands. This answer seemed to appease her.  

 

It did not prove an end to her questions though. "Who's your favorite fighter?"

 

Loki sighed. "I don't know. Thor, I guess."

 

"Mine too! He's really good."

 

"Hn."

 

"Da is really good fighter too. Do you fight?"

 

"Once in a while."

 

"I don't wanna be warrior like Da."

 

Knowing she would eventually just tell him, Loki humored her and asked, "What do you want to be then?"

 

"A unicorn."

 

 

 

 

It was nearly fifteen minutes at this point and they were no closer to finding Volstagg. 

 

"Perhaps he is already at the tourney field," he suggested. 

 

"He can't 'cause I got the tickets!" She pulled out their two red and white tickets from a pocket in her trousers. 

 

"Of course you do," Loki said whilst taking a moment to gaze at the ceiling, wondering if the Norns wished to punish him separately for his crime against Sif. 

 

While Loki pondered at what to do next, Gerda's mood took a nosedive and she began to panic. 

 

"Do you think something happened to Da? What if he doesn't come back? What if he's hurt?" 

 

He was not much of a caretaker to begin with, but he truly did not think he could handle a crying child at this moment. 

 

He knelt down once more, re-placing his hands on her shoulders and looking directly in her eyes. He suddenly realized the familiarity of his actions both now and earlier as they mirrored those of his mother whenever he or Thor had been upset as children. It must be subconscious, he reasoned.  

 

"Look, your da- father," Loki corrected. "Your father is completely safe. It is a big palace, aye. But he knows it well and he will not be gone forever. We will find him."

 

"You promise?" she asked, still unsure. 

 

With his most authoritative and royal voice, he replied, "I, Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard and its territories across the Nine Realms, General of the Asgardian Naval Forces, and Master Sorcerer to the Crown, do solemnly swear to find-"

 

"Gerda!"

 

Both Loki and Gerda whipped their heads around to see Volstagg, dripping wet and covered in mud standing at the opposite end of the golden hall. 

 

"Da!" she cried happily and bounded towards him. Volstagg immediately picked his daughter up and wrapped her in a bear hug that muddied her clothes. 

 

Leaning back from the embrace, Gerda exclaimed, "We were looking for you, Da. We searched the whole palace and couldn't find you."

 

"Well I wasn't in the palace, sweetheart." 

 

Turning from his daughter, Volstagg aimed his next words at Loki, who had quietly approached the reunited family. 

 

"I was in a swamp!"

 

"A swamp- Oh....," Loki trailed off, realization dawning. 

 

"Aye, a swamp," Volstagg repeated angrily. "I was in the kitchens getting food and the next thing I know, I'm being transported to a bloody swamp!" 

 

Gerda clapped a hand over her mouth and almost inaudibly uttered, "Da said a bad word."

 

Volstagg's temper lessened and he quickly apologized. "Sorry, Gerd." 

 

Loki took the opportunity to interject before the other man could get riled up again. "I had no idea my portal could transport anything larger than a blueberry. It was meant to get rid of flies from the kitchen. Just a one way-"

 

"Oh I know it's only one way! It took me nearly twenty minutes for Heimdall to rescue me because he was at the blood-, he was at the tournament." 

 

Backstepping as to make his escape, Loki pressed his hands together and said, "My sincerest apologies, good Volstagg. But now you're back, you have your daughter, and there are still plenty of matches to watch at the tournament. Good day."

 

He made to pivot on heel, but unfortunately, the heavyset warrior was not finished with the prince just yet. 

 

"What were you doing with my daughter in the first place? No tricks I hope."

 

Loki inwardly cringed. It was only because of his recent wrong against Sif that Volstagg treated him with such distrust. Their friend group had been rather neatly divided against him since the incident. 

 

Gerda thankfully chose that moment to speak up. "He was helping me find you, Da."

 

Volstagg looked him up and down then let out a short, "Hmph."

 

With his daughter still in his arms, the third member of the Warriors Three turned and headed down to the stadium, seemingly unconcerned he was still covered in mud.

 

Once again alone, Loki took a moment to reflect on the last twenty minutes. With a nod and a click of his tongue, he turned in the direction to take him to the kitchens. He had a portal to redo.  


End file.
